


Roguish Heart

by Luces



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Fantasy, Knight Stan, LARPing, M/M, Rogue Craig, Sexual Tension, Stick of Truth AU, mild violence, relationship milestones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-24 02:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13801761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luces/pseuds/Luces
Summary: Sir Stanley the Knight is on a mission to retrieve the Elven King's stolen magic crown from the notorious rogue Craig. Along the way, he discovers he may just have some hidden feelings for the young thief.--Written based on a prompt from GloriousKouhai (and the Staig discord server) for the SP Drabble Bomb Feb 2018 (Relationship Milestones)





	1. Denial

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gloriouskouhai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloriouskouhai/gifts).



The dungeon was dark and damp. The stench of mold permeated the stale air. A fairly large rat scurried along the far wall, disappearing into a fractured piece of the aging stonework. The sound of _something_ dripping echoed within the four walls. The young knight grit his teeth, his level of anger growing as he was getting nowhere with this filthy waste of oxygen. He bent over and shoved his face so close to the thief’s that his nose pressed into the other man’s temple.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you here right now?” Stan growled.

Craig flexed his lean muscles under the tight rope that bound him to the chair in which he found himself. His eyes managed to be mischievous even when faced with a serious threat on his life.

“Simple. If you kill me, you never find out whether or not I have taken your beloved King’s magic crown, Sir Stanley the Pussy.”

He leaned his head forward, stuck out his tongue, and dragged it slowly up the knight’s cheek, feeling the rough stubble that was starting to grow in. Sir Stanley quickly jumped back, wiping the saliva off his cheek with the back of his hand. He let out a noise of disgust and grimaced at the vulgar action.

The young rogue smirked and raised his chin in a show of confidence. “You act like you hated it, but you waited until I was finished to move away. See now that tells me you kinda liked it. Pussy.”

Stan clenched his fists, ready to punch Craig in the mouth, but paused, remembering the importance of his mission.

* * *

  _“You called for me, my Lord?”_

_“Sir Stanley. It has come to my attention that the magic crown that has been passed down through the High Elf royal family for generations has been stolen. You know how important that crown is to me, and more importantly, the Kingdom. I would like to task you to track down the perpetrator and retrieve the crown.”_

_“My Lord, are you sure to entrust only me with such a quest? The magic crown is a national treasure of great value. Perhaps I should round up some of the other knights and-“_

_“Sir Stan. You’re my best friend and the most skilled knight in my army. There isn’t anyone I trust more. I know that you will be able to track down the criminal. Do what you must. It is imperative that the crown is found. It could be very dangerous in the wrong hands.”_

_“Yes, my Lord. I shall take my leave.”_

_After investigating the crime scene, Stan had found a throwing dart imbedded in the wall with a small piece of paper tied to it. The paper was blank except for a small drawing of what looked like a middle finger. Stan had crumpled the paper in his fist, knowing immediately who had stolen the crown. His greatest nemesis. The one criminal who always got away. That bastard rogue, Craig._

* * *

 “I see you trying to hold back that anger, like a good little knight. I know you want to take a cheap shot at me right now. I’m all tied up and can’t fight back. We’re down in here, all alone. No one would ever have to know. It would feel _so good_ , wouldn’t it? Do it, you fucking pussy. _Do i-_ “

_Crack!_

Craig’s eyes widened as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip, the familiar taste of blood on his taste buds. He began to laugh. “Damn, I didn’t think you had the balls to actually do it.”

“You make me angry enough to resort to things that I wouldn’t normally do. Now where is the crown, thief?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, knight,” Craig smirked.

“You damn well know what I’m talking about! I saw your mark in the crown holding room!”

“Oh yeah, right. The guards who protect that were pretty fucking pathetic, by the way. They went down easily. Everyone goes down easily when it comes to me. I bet even you would, if given the chance.” Craig winked at his captor.

“How _dare_ you insinuate that I would _degrade_ myself in such a manner! I would _never!”_

“I think the great Stan doth protest too much. Also you’re not wearing a codpiece, so I can see that your body betrays your mind.” He grinned impishly, his misaligned teeth stained red with his own blood.

Stan pursed his lips and adjusted his stance, changing the way he held his sword. He held the blade pointing downward, the hilt resting in front of his groin in an ill-conceived attempt to hide it from the thief’s prying eyes. Craig flicked his eyes to the sword hanging between his captor’s legs, then back up to Stan’s crystal blues.

“Yeah, nice try, knight. From what I just saw, you own less a longsword and more of a dagger.”

Stan dropped his blade and lunged at Craig, grabbing his shoulders and slamming the back of his head against the wall with a loud thud. The chair teetered precariously on two legs, somehow still managing to hold its structural integrity under the shifted weight. Craig groaned at the impact. Something stirred in Stan when he heard the throaty groan, but he quickly pushed it aside. Stan grabbed a fistful of black hair and wrenched Craig's head back so that his dusky blue eyes could get a good look at how deadly serious Stan was.

"Tell me where the magic crown is before I _fucking_ bash your skull open against the wall and paint the room with your blood!"

Craig grinned. It was always fun to get a rise out of Stan.

"We both know you'd never actually kill me. It's not a part of your valiant warrior code. But because I can see just how seriously you're taking this mission, I'll be honest with you."

Sir Stanley held his breath as he waited for the answer.

"I really don't know where the crown is. I got drunk that night and lost it."

Stan bared his teeth at Craig. Their faces were so close, they could feel each other's breath. Stan's chest heaved with fury as he contemplated his next move. Craig’s eyes seemed to slowly wander from the heaving chest up to Stan’s lips, finally meeting Stan’s eyes.

The dungeon cellar door abruptly swung open and both men turned their heads to the movement.

“He-hey Stan? Do you guys want some lemonade? Your mom just made some."

Stan released his grasp on Craig and took a few steps closer to the stairs. ”Get out of here, dad! Can't you see we're LARPing? Leave us alone!"

"Of course I know what LARPing is, gawwwd!” Randy slowly closed the door behind him, mumbling, “Whatever it is, it looks kind of gay”, before it clicked shut.

Stan sighed and turned to address Craig once more. He jolted in surprised when he found the chair empty and the freshly sliced ropes strewn across the floor. He spun around, looking for him around the room. He’d only averted his eyes for a moment! He could not have gotten far! His gaze fell upon Craig standing at the top of the dungeon stairs. He was holding a pocket knife, only slipping it back up his sleeve once he was certain that Stan could see him do so.

“I never leave home without it,” he grinned.

“How?! I patted you down as soon as I caught you!” Stan questioned.

“I have my ways…but thanks for the pat down anyway. Next time, I can return the favor,” he winked.

Stan stomped his foot in frustration, a rosy blush spreading across his face.

“Y-you insufferable-!” he stuttered.

His flushed skin quickly turned pale and his jaw dropped when Craig then pulled out the Elven King’s magic crown from his leather tunic. Craig spun it around one of his long slender fingers.

“Don’t act surprised, Sir Pussy. We both know you knew I was lying. Time to see what this piece of junk will go for in the underground market.”

Stan started sprinting toward the stairs, but Craig threw a smoke bomb down, causing Stan to cough and shield his eyes. When the smoke finally cleared, he was long gone.


	2. Pining

The din of steel clashing against steel filled the vast training field behind the barracks. Scores of young soldiers were sparring with each other, training for the day when they would be called upon by the Elf King to protect the Kingdom from enemy attack. The two strongest warriors in the land always sparred with each other. Normally Sir Stanley was the one to come out on top during these practice matches, but today he found himself on his knees with a hammer stopped mere inches away from his head each and every round. The young paladin knew something was off.

“Sir Stanley, what is with you today?” asked a confused Butters.

“What do you mean? I feel fine.” Stan stood up and dusted off his clothes.

“You always best me nine times out of ten when we fight, but I’ve kicked your behind seven times already today. What gives?”

“You must’ve become stronger than me since we last dueled.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes glancing to the left.

“Golly, do I wish that were true, but we dueled last week and that’s not nearly enough time to have surpassed you. I can tell that you have something on your mind. Would you like to talk about it over some ale?”

“There’s really nothing to discuss, Butters…but some ale would really hit the spot right now.” 

* * *

Stan twiddled his thumbs while he waited for Butters to return with the two flagons of ale. It was true, he really _did_ have a lot on his mind. He simply did not wish to state the thoughts that had been clouding his judgement aloud, even to a trusted friend. Even if that friend was a paladin who was known for his honesty and courage, and who would never criticize his friend for what had been distracting him from his training.

“Here we are! Two brown ales!” Butters proclaimed when he finally arrived back at the tavern table. His energy and enthusiasm were hard to resist.

Stan reached for the flagon that Butters offered him and inhaled the brew’s delicious aroma. He brought his lips up to the rim and took a long, deep drink.

“Okay Stan, it’s time to tell me what has you so preoccupied that you can’t dodge my attacks. I’m not going to even get started at how sloppy your stances were.”

“How many times do I need to tell you, Butters? I’m fine! I’m totally not distracted by the constant pervasive thought of Craig’s face!”

Stan’s eyes widened, his hand clamping over his mouth. Butters leaned back in his chair and smiled. Stan slowly dropped his hand from his mouth and nervously laughed, trying to hide his utter embarrassment.

“Uh, what I meant to say was that I’m just tired. That’s why I’ve been so sluggish today. I didn’t get much sleep last night because every time I closed my eyes, I saw Craig’s ass.”

Butters giggled at the sight of his friend burying his beet red face in his hands.

“It’s not even that great of an ass,” Stan mumbled into his palms. “What is happening right now?” he exclaimed, dropping his hands to the table. He picked up his drink and took another sip, pausing mid-sip and slowly placed it back down. “What the fuck did you put in my drink, you fiend?”

“I’m sorry, Stan.” He held up an empty bottle of light blue liquid.

“Elixir of Veracity? Jesus Christ, Butters, a paladin wouldn’t use that! That’s not good and righteous and shit! Stop going out of character!”

“Well gee Stan, if you weren’t being such a gosh darn wiener about talking with me and being honest with your _friend_ , I wouldn’t have used it! And I’m not the one who started going out of character in the first place! You are!”

The two of them bristled at each other for a moment, soon relaxing and returning to their in-character conversation.

“So then…it would seem that you are quite smitten with the infamous thief known as Craig,” Butters continued.

“That appears to be so,” Stan sighed. “We’ve been at odds many times before, but the other day…something happened to me, and I don’t think he had used a charm potion.” Against his better judgement, he had another gulp of the tainted ale.

“The other day? Oh! Do you mean when you had him tied to a chair and at your mercy?”

“Ngh…yes. And do you have to use such…titillating language?” Thoughts of Craig bound up in front of him…and begging for mercy…crept into his mind. Stan shifted in his seat.

“I’m just stating the facts, Sir Stanley,” Butters grinned. “It is you, the smitten one, who has applied inappropriate thoughts to these innocent facts.”

Stan sighed, knowing there was no point in denying it anymore. “It’s just…I don’t even know how to explain it. I hate him. He always manages to escape whenever I’ve caught him and I’m _this_ close to finally defeating him, but…I feel a rush of excitement whenever we’re at odds. I love how he can always outsmart me, cause he and I both know that he’d lose in a battle of strength. It makes me want to become better at strategizing, better at seeing all the different possibilities in a situation. When he was bound to that chair and not backing down, even after I punched him in the jaw…fuck, it was one of the hottest things I’ve ever witnessed, Butters. And I can’t stop thinking about that. His knowing eyes and that roguish grin, tarnished with his blood. I don’t know if it’s the elixir making me say this or not, but…if the dungeon keeper hadn’t interrupted us…I think I would have discovered what his blood tasted like on my tongue.”

Butters’ eyebrows were raised. He hadn’t expected to get so much out of Stan. “You know what I think, Sir Stanley? If it were me, I’d tell him all of that the next time I came face to face with him. It’s good to be open with your feelings. You never know what could happen. He could feel the same way.”

“Of course you’d say that, mister righteous-unless-I-need-my-friend-to-open-up-to-me paladin.” He rolled his eyes at Butters. “But I’m not going to do that. I don’t need to give him another thing that he can use against me. He’s a rogue, a thief, a scoundrel…he’ll just laugh at my pathetic feelings and probably steal my sword in the process. And I’d probably let him because he’s fucking beautiful.” Stan planted his forehead firmly into the palm of his hand.

“Damn Stan,” Butters began after finishing his own ale. “You have it bad.”

“I really do,” he sighed.


	3. Confession

Sir Stanley walked swiftly, but cautiously, down the narrow dirt roads of the slums. He knew he shouldn’t be so classist about it—he hadn’t been born into wealth or royalty either—but the slums were not just home to the poorest people of the Kingdom. Some of the most despicable souls the Kingdom had to offer called the slums their home. One wrong move, one wrong glance, and he could be against a wall at knifepoint unloading the contents of his pockets. He pulled down on the hood of the cloak he’d chosen to wear. Better that no one be able to see his face and recognize who he was. He was here with a purpose. He had to find Craig. He had to get his hands on him. So that he could get the magic crown back. Yes. Not for any nefarious purposes or anything. Simply to complete his King’s mission. For business, not for pleasure.

He had left his longsword in the barracks, choosing instead to bring his short sword. He had tied the bottom of the scabbard to his leg in order to keep it better disguised under the cloak, but it had caused him to have to walk with a bit of a limp. He felt silly, but looked the part of someone who would be frequenting the establishment at which he found himself.

The Inn of the Giggling Donkey. A place known across the land for its rowdiness. Stan knew that Craig frequented the Inn, especially the bar on the first floor. He took a deep breath and opened the large oak door.

As Stan walked through the door and up to the bar, no one stopped their loud merriment to look at him. He let out the breath he had taken in, glad that he had not been met with trouble as soon as he had entered. He placed his elbows on the bar and leaned forward to get the bartender’s attention.

“Excuse m- ….uh…hey Barkeep!” he yelled, despite it being barely audible over the ruckus behind him.

A cloud of smoke was lingering around the short blond man’s head. He turned to look over his shoulder at Stan, his cigarette hanging precariously between his lips. 

“Yeah? Whattaya want?” Stan noticed the small muscles around the man’s right eye kept twitching.

“I, uh…give me a, uh…whiskey,” Stan fumbled. He didn’t want to speak as he normally did around these common folk and let his status slide, but instead he just came off awkward and suspicious.

“No problem. Coming right up.”

The bartender grabbed a glass and bottle off the shelf, placing them on the bar in front of Stan. His eyes bore into Stan’s hooded face as he sloppily poured the brown liquid. It made Stan uneasy.

“Here,” he added, pushing the glass toward Stan. “That’ll be five silver.”

“Five silver?! That’s preposterous!”

The barkeep’s eye narrowed. He plucked his nearly-finished cigarette from his mouth and stubbed it out on the bar, mere millimeters from Stan’s fingers. Stan could feel the burning heat on his skin. The man lowered his head to look directly at Stan’s shadowed face.

“Do you have a problem with my pricing, stranger?”

Stan did his best not to shudder. Upon getting a good look at the blond man’s rather intense eyes, Stan got the feeling that this man had killed before, and was quite capable of doing it again. He made a mental note to never fuck with him.

“Nope. No problem at all.”

He reached into his cloak to pull out his leather pouch, depositing ten silver coins onto the bar. He hoped the generous tip would help smooth over the uneasy interaction. It worked.

“Thank you very much, stranger,” he smiled, scooping up the coins and placing them in his apron pocket. “Where you—ngh—from anyway? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you around here before.” He lit up another cigarette and took a long drag. “The name’s Tweek, by the way.”

“I’m a traveler,” Stan lied. “I’ve come here seeking the thief named Craig.”

“Craig? Really? What do you want with him” Tweek asked.

“WHO HERE IS ASKING ABOUT MY CRAIG?” A loud voiced echoed across the room.

Stan turned around to see a tall brown haired man standing in the back corner, his hands firmly on his hips.

“This hooded stranger guy.” Tweek motioned to Stan. “And sit down, Clyde, you fool.” Tweek turned back to address Stan. “Yeah, I’d go talk to those gents over there if you want to find out where Craig is. Sure, he comes here to get wrecked most nights, but I haven’t seen him in a few. That’s his gang over there. They might have more information.” He pushed the glass closer to Stan. “Don’t forget your whiskey.”

Stan nodded to Tweek and picked up his glass before he made his was to the back of the bar. He grabbed a seat and gingerly sat down with the three dangerous looking men who surrounded the table.

“So…what business do you have with my friend Craig, hmm?” Clyde asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah. Usually when someone comes ar-r-round here looking for him, they end up becoming w-well-acquainted with the pointy end of a dagger.”

“Jimmy makes a good point, stranger,” added the third man, a red bandana tied around his head. “If you intend to fight him, I hope you’re prepared to meet your maker.” 

“I don’t intend to fight him, good sirs. I just…I need to talk to him.”

“Talk to him? That’s…odd. Craig isn’t really known to be a great conversationist,” Clyde stated, suspicion in his voice. “He usually just makes fun of me.”

“That’s because so much of what you say and do is so dumb and easy to insult, Clyde,” the man with the red bandana replied.

“Shut up, Token! Now then, stranger. Perhaps I shall tell you of Craig’s whereabouts if you pass our three tests!”

Stan grimaced, frustrated that he had to wade through such asinine trials, but knowing that it might still be the fastest way to getting close to Craig. He nodded in acceptance.

“First, I shall need you to-“

The large oak door flew open with a bang, startling everyone in the bar. In limped a wounded Craig. His right hand held firmly onto his left bicep, the leather torn and covered in crimson stains. Stan jumped to his feet, knocking back his chair which fell to the floor. Craig’s friends followed suit. Stan dashed over to Craig, his hood falling back as he did.

“Craig! What happened?” he inquired.

“Sir Pussy? Why are you here?“

“You kn-know this guy?” Jimmy asked.

“Yes, he’s…an acquaintance.” Craig was intentionally vague about his and Stan’s relationship. 

“You’re hurt!” Stan exclaimed

“It’s no matter,” Craig interrupted, placing his hand in the air to stop Stan from trying to look at the wound. “I need to talk to you about something of great importance. The fact that you’re here simply means I do not have to go find you. Come with me.”

Craig grabbed Stan by the arm and pulled him out of the Giggling Donkey. They walked quickly down the main dirt road that wove through the slums. Stan had no idea where they were headed, but Craig clearly knew what he was doing.

“So, uh…Craig. That thing I needed to tell you,” Stan began.

“Yeah, what is it?”

Craig glanced at Stan over his shoulder, those dusky blue eyes making Stan feel weak. His stomach was turning over on itself, the contents threatening to spill out onto the ground. It had been a long time since he had last found himself in a predicament such as this, but time and maturity had not helped make it easier on him. He took a deep breath and decided to go for it.

“I…I like you.”

“Down here!” Craig’s voice interrupted as he darted down a dark alley, dragging Stan along. He made no noise or comment that would make it seem that he heard Stan’s confession.

“Where are you taking me anyway?” Stan questioned.

“I know an underground doctor who can patch me up. When we get there, there’s something I have to talk to you about, but I can’t do it in public.”

They walked for a few more minutes, dipping and dodging in between different alleyways. It almost felt like Craig was purposely taking the longest, most roundabout way possible. It was possibly to confuse Stan so that he could not find the back alley doctor a second time, or perhaps…were they being followed?

“Here,” Craig finally stated.

The outside of the building was nondescript. Clearly the owner did not want any attention drawn to themselves and only wanted business by word of mouth. Stan could not blame them, though, for if he had learned about this place under any other circumstance, he would bring it to the Elven King’s attention and it would be promptly shut down. Unlicensed medical practice is a danger to the people of the kingdom on top of being illegal.

“I’m putting a shit ton of trust in you right now, bringing you here. You’d better behave yourself. No righteous knight bullshit, got it?”

Stan nodded.

They entered though the surprisingly small door, Craig having to duck his head ever-so-slightly so that he didn’t hit it on the head jamb. The practice appeared to only have two rooms: a lobby of sorts and the room where care was provided. A young girl greeted them in the make-shift lobby.

“Hey Craig!” she said cheerfully. “Are you in need of a walk-in appointment, or are you just stopping in to say hello?”

“Walk-in, I’m afraid,” he answered. He nodded his head to his wounded arm. “This guy here is just along for the ride.”

“Your friend is quite handsome, Craig,” the girl flirted, eyeing Stan from behind her desk.

“Careful, Karen, lest I tell your brother you’re trying to get cozy with the patients,” Craig warned.

“Yeah, yeah, shove it in your ear!” She stood up and headed toward the door that led to the other room. “I’ll let Kenny know you’re here. It should only be a few more minutes.”

Once Karen had disappeared behind the door, Craig turned to Stan. “Okay, confession time. Look, the crown was stolen from me.”

“Wait, what?!” Stan yelled.

“Shh! Keep your voice down! Do you really want anyone else knowing that the Elven King’s legendary magic crown is outside of the castle walls? Do you really want _that_ rumor spreading around these parts? Yeah it’s my home and I love it, but even I know that it’s full of some terrible fucking people.”

“What happened? How did it get stolen from _you_?”

“I got drunk last night and as I walked home, I thought it’d be funny to wear the crown and start singing about how I’m the king of big dicks.”

Stan looked at Craig incredulously. “You…what?!”

“I didn’t stutter. Anyway some shady bitches must’ve seen me wearing it and this afternoon, I got jumped. You’d think a rogue like me would have better awareness of his surroundings, but I was pretty hungover. They took the crown from me and while I was struggling to get it back, they gouged me in the arm with a knife. I wasn’t able to take them down, but I did get a good look at their faces. They were henchmen of the Great Wizard.”

“The Great Wizard? How can that be? He was banished from the Kingdom four months ago. No one has seen him since then.”

“Yeah, well rumor has it around here that he’s starting to try to build himself an army to take on the Elven King. The guy fancies himself a king once more. He’s trying to go by ‘Wizard King’ again and he’s promising all these young lads power, riches, and women beyond their wildest dreams. They’re too inexperienced to know he’s full of shit.”

“But now that he has the crown, we could be in some serious trouble here,” Stan replied.

“Exactly. That’s why I was thankful to find out that you had come to the Giggling Donkey looking for me. I’m going to need your help with this. We have to get the crown back from him and back in the rightful hands. I know it was I who stole it in the first place and threatened to sell it, but I wasn’t really going to do it. I just like to get a rise out of you. I was really going to hold onto it for a week or so and then hold it ransom, saying I’d give it back to the Elven King for the right price. Clearly I wasn’t able to make it that far.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll help you. I really have no other choice. I _have_ to get the crown back.”

“Great. We’ll discuss strategy once Kenny is done sewing me up.”

Craig shifted in his seat so that he was facing Stan. 

“Now then…” he began with a smirk across his face. “What is this about you liking me, hmm?”


	4. Public Displays of Affection

Stan froze in fear. So Craig _had_ heard his confession. Craig had a smile on his face, but maybe it was in amusement. Maybe he thought it was funny and he was just fucking with him. This _was_ Craig after all. He didn’t say anything more. He just let the question hang in the air as he stared at Stan, making Stan wholly uncomfortable.

“So…you, uh, heard that one, huh?” he finally stammered. 

“Yup,” was Craig’s only reply, his grin becoming wider. 

Stan’s face started to turn a warm shade of red, much to his chagrin. The door to the care room opened and Karen popped her head out, bringing the awkward silence to an end.

“Kenny’s ready for you, Craig,” she spoke.

“Thank god,” Stan mumbled under his breath.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Sir Stanley. When I’m done in there, you’re going to tell me what it is that you like about me.” Craig grinned and blew a kiss at Stan as he stood up and followed Karen into the room. Stan couldn’t tell if the blown kiss was sarcastic or sincere.

* * *

 

The wait for Craig to return was excruciating. Stan kept thinking of all the worst case scenarios. Craig was going to force him to confess every little thing he liked about him, and then he was probably going to laugh at him for it. Or harass him about it whenever they’re at odds. Or stab him with his dagger because he’s disgusted. Stan supposed that if that last one did happen, at least he’s in a pseudo-medical facility.

The door to the care room finally opened and out walked Craig and a blond scrappy looking man who Stan assumed was the surgeon.

“Thanks, Kenny. I owe you one,” Craig spoke.

“Anytime, my friend. Just remember to keep the dressing clean and dry, and to change it once a day. You still have those supplies I gave you, right?”

“Indeed I do. I should have enough for this one to heal.”

“Who’s this?” Kenny asked, nodding toward Stan.

“Him?” Craig smirked. “Oh…he’s my new boyfriend.”

“Really? Nice pull there. I guess that means you’re off the market for now, huh?”

“Yeah, for a while, at least. We’ll have to put our occasional late night trysts on hold.”

“I have to admit I’m a little disappointed, but I’ll manage.” Kenny looked directly at Stan and pointed. “You be good to him, you hear me! I know a lot of fucked up ways to torture people, so I’d better not hear about you hurting him or you’ll find out first-hand!”

Stan threw his hands up in defense, although he had no idea what was going on. “I-I won’t! Promise!”

“Come on, Ken, you’re scaring my boyfriend.” He slapped Kenny’s arm in jest and the two men laughed, leaving Stan slightly scared and very confused. “How much do I owe you today?”

“Ah, it’s on the house today. Friends and family discount.” He winked at Craig and disappeared into the back room before Craig could protest.

“Okay then, let’s go,” Craig started.

“Where to?” Stan asked.

“My place.”

* * *

 

“So why did you lie back there? To Kenny.”

“What do you mean?” Craig asked.

“You called me your boyfriend. Which is preposterous, by the way.”

Craig laughed and folded his arms. “Oh, that. I did that cause I knew it’d make you blush. You know, you’re actually kinda cute when you do that. Maybe that’s why I like getting you worked up so much.”

Stan pouted. “It wasn’t very nice. I don’t even know why I like a jerk like you.”

“That’s a good point. You still haven’t told me everything you like about me,” Craig smirked.

“I refuse, you cur.”

Craig moved closer to Stan, causing Stan to stagger backwards and fall onto the couch. Craig took the opportunity to climb onto Stan, straddling his lap and preventing him from escaping the conversation. “I’m not letting you back up until you tell me…and I know this is making you very uncomfortable right now, so the longer you wait, the happier I’ll be, seeing you squirm.”

Stan found it slightly ironic that he was now the one trapped and being interrogated. He knew that if he stayed in this position much longer, he’d have a big problem on his hands.

“I…uh…well, you have very pretty eyes,” he began. “And…uh…” Stan was finding it very difficult to concentrate with Craig’s groin pressing down onto his thigh. “There’s just something about you. You make me frustrated and excited at the same time. I simultaneously find you repulsive and sexy as hell, and it pisses me off!”

Anything else Stan had planned to say was cut off by Craig’s lips meeting his in a surprisingly sweet embrace. Craig then nipped at Stan’s bottom lip, causing him to open his mouth just enough for Craig to slip his tongue inside. The kiss was just long enough for Stan to get a taste, but Craig pulled away before Stan was satiated.

The sly smirk that crept across Craig's face as he leaned back let loose a kaleidoscope of butterflies in Stan's stomach. Craig then stunned Stan by immediately leaping off his lap and pacing around the room. The butterflies dispersed instantly. The kiss had just been another way to get a rise out of Stan.

“Alright, down to business. You can’t just be wasting time with your dick in your hands, Stan.”

“What? Says the guy who lost the crown in the first place by acting a fool and singing about being the king of big dicks!”

“Focus, Stan. We already talked about how you badly want to see why I’m the king.” Stan threw his hands in the air, giving up on winning. “Word around town is that the Grand Wizard has been sending out recruiters to work around Hellsmouth. It’s a tavern that opened not too long ago, and only the worst people get their drink there. If we go there later tonight and try to blend in, we might be able to listen in on some conversations and find out where the Grand Wizard is currently hiding.”

“Yeah, but how are we going to blend in?” Stan asked.

“I have a few ideas up my sleeve,” Craig grinned.

* * *

 

The night sky was clear. The stars were out in all of their full glory, and the moon was bright and nearly full. It seemed to give Craig a skip in his step, or at least that’s how Stan perceived it. They were both dressed in dark cloaks, wanting to blend in with the brand of criminal that hung around Hellsmouth. These people made the patrons of the Giggling Donkey look like upstanding citizens. Stan was doubtful that this plan would work, but he had decided to trust Craig since he obviously knew more about these people.

“Since the recruiters will be talking about someone who’s been banished from the Kingdom, they won’t risk discussing it inside, lest they be outed and kicked to the curb. I know that sounds ridiculous, but even the worst people in the Kingdom aren’t going to mess with the Grand fucking Jizzard.”

“So how do you propose we linger around outside in the hopes that someone comes by and drops some information?” Stan inquired.

“Amorous couples often retire to the dark alleys after a few drinks in order to get frisky. No one ever bats an eye. If we pretend to be one of those couples, the shady fucks won’t even realize we’re there and they’ll talk freely,” Craig explained.

“And how are you certain that this will work?”

“I can’t be one hundred percent certain, but these guys can’t be that smart, cause look at who they’re working for, and if they do catch on, we can definitely take them down between the two of us.”

“Okay…okay…so how do we even start this?” Stan questioned.

Craig grabbed Stan’s hand and guided him down into one of the moonlit alleys next to the tavern. Craig leaned his back on the brick wall and pulled Stan up against his chest. Stan could feel his heart pounding in his chest. If he hadn’t confessed to Craig earlier, the way his body was responding right now would have been a dead giveaway. He rested his head in the crook of Craig’s neck and placed his hands on his slender hips. This felt like bliss, Stan realized. Like he had found everything he had ever wanted. He wanted to voice that thought to Craig at that very moment, but he knew that could compromise the plan.

“Hey,” Craig whispered. “Don’t just stand there. Do a bit more. I think I hear some guys about to come down. They might get suspicious if they think we’re just snuggling out here.”

Stan took the go-ahead from Craig as a chance to get a better taste of his mouth. He leaned his head up ever-so-slightly and pressed his lips against Craig’s own soft—how were they so soft?—lips. Stan didn’t waste any time trailing the tip of his tongue along Craig’s bottom lip, and Craig parted then quickly, almost eagerly. Stan’s tongue dipped inside, tasting a lingering hint of Craig’s earlier bourbon.

Three shadowy figured emerged from the moderately lit road and slowly walked down the alleyway and past the two ‘lovers’, finally stopping about two meters from Stan and Craig. Craig grabbed a fistful of Stan’s hair and tugged his head back, breaking the kiss. Craig brought his mouth to Stan’s ear, pretending to whisper sweet-nothings.

“Try not to make too much noise, but don’t be completely silent. If we’re silent, they might become suspicious, but if we make too much noise, we won’t be able to hear. It’s not like they’re going to be yelling this conversation.”

Stan nodded silently, then let out a moan when Craig suddenly bit on his earlobe.

“Yeah, like that,” praised Craig.

_“The Wizard King is very interested in your services, young lad,” the burly henchman began._

Stan managed to work his hands inside of Craig’s cloak and under his shirt. His fingernails lightly scratched against the smooth skin. Stan could feel Craig’s muscles tighten at his touch. Their breathing was becoming heavier, their movements more impatient. They were supposed to be feigning an amorous couple, but they were getting a bit too into the roles. Stan had expected this to happen on his end, as it was a dangerous game he was playing, but he hadn’t expected Craig to become nearly as enthusiastic.

_“R-really? That’s so cool! I haven’t really been able to get any work around here lately. What would he be offering?” The young fighter lit up in excitement._

_“The Wizard King is very rich and he will soon be the most powerful being in the land, as he has laid his hands upon a legendary item. He’ll soon be able to control the entire Kingdom,” the first henchman continued._

Stan trailed kissed down Craig’s jaw and along the slope of his neck. He buried his face in Craig’s neck, inhaling Craig’s delicious scent. It was fresh, woody, and entirely intoxicating.

_“Yes, so by joining his army now, you position yourself to be in the upper class of this new order. You can have any woman or man whom you desire. All the liquor you can drink. Never go hungry again, lad.” The second henchman sold the deal._

Stan began to nibble at Craig’s neck. First he lightly grazed his teeth against Craig’s skin when he kissed it. However soon the rough kisses turned into full on bites, eliciting a string of rather loud moans from Craig’s throat. It was music to Stan’s ears.

_“That sounds awesome! I’m totally in!” the young lad exclaimed with glee._

Stan pressed his body closer to Craig’s, their hips touching just enough to feel each other’s growing firmness. Stan began to grind against Craig, his want growing with each subtle thrust. Based on the sounds Craig was making, he wanted this, too. If only the Elven King’s magic crown wasn’t currently being held captive by one of the most evil men in the land, then he and Craig might… Shh, listen!

_“Excellent. Meet us tomorrow night at the Wizard King’s Lair. It’s at…”_

“Oh god, _fuck_ Stan!” Craig cried out at the final grind of Stan’s hips.

The shady trio glanced over at the two men who seemed to be getting ready to consummate whatever relationship they had going on, and decided to quickly walk past them out of the alley and disperse into the night. Stan pulled away from Craig, the heat they had created together dispersing into the night as well.

“I got the information! No thanks to your loud mouth, though, thief. Now we know where we can find the Grand Wizard and the crown!”

Craig leaned against the brick wall, catching his breath. He hadn’t expected to get this wound up by Stan. He had simply been playing Stan all this time…right? He didn’t actually feel anything back for the stubborn knight…did he? His gradually slowly pulse and the issue between his legs that made him glad he was wearing a loose cloak told a different story. So did the trace amount of blush over the bridge of his nose, something that was not lost of Sir Stanley.

“What’s the matter, Craig? Distracted by something? I thought you were better at your work,” he teased. “Get yourself together, man! We must hurry back to your place to devise a plan to finally face the Wizard King!”

Stan began to head out of the alley. Craig was briefly left alone with his thoughts.

“Fuck,” he whispered.


	5. Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive any obvious editing mistakes. I had to write most of this on my phone because our power went out, and I don't edit well on mobile. I'll make any necessary changes when I get the chance!

Sir Stanley paced around the thief's small room. His mind was focused on one thing and one thing only—getting back the Elven King's magic crown. Craig, on the other hand, crouched on his couch, his mind adrift with thoughts of the man in front of him. When he had started shamelessly flirting with Stan, it had purely been in order to see the electricity in Stan's eyes and the fire under his skin. He thought it was funny that Stan would get so flustered by it, and he only half expected for Stan to actually have some sort of feelings for him. What he  _hadn't_  planned for was the chance that he would end up reciprocating those sentiments. He wouldn't deny that he'd always found Stan attractive, but his brave righteous knight act was never something that enticed him. It still annoyed him at times, but he had to admit that watching him come up with a plan to kick the Wizard's fat ass in real time was a major turn on.

"So what do you think, Craig?" Stan asked.

"Huh?" Craig snapped his head up to see Stan staring at him.

"Were you even paying attention?" Stan sighed.

"Uh…no."

"Do you even know where the Wizard King is hiding?"

"Yeah, of course!" Craig lied.

"Okay, where is he hiding then?"

Craig looked into Stan's eyes for a moment, trying to think of something to say, but then quickly looked away.

"I knew it! You weren't paying attention last night! What gives?!"

Craig was silent.

"You know, it was your fucking idea to grind up on each other. Are you telling me you didn't hear the information we were trying to get our hands on?"

"I was…distracted. We were supposed to be pretending to grind up on each other, but you…took it too far."

" _I_  took it too far? What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying you  _enjoyed_  it?"

Craig continued to avert his eyes.

"If that  _is_  what you're saying, then I'm glad. Cause I enjoyed it, too."

Craig looked up and saw Stan smiling at him. It was such a sweet smile, one he didn't see from Stan very often. He looked down at his feet again, a blush slowly growing across his cheeks. Rarely did he not have the upper hand when it came to other people, especially when it came to sexual attraction, and it made him feel uncomfortable. Thankfully Stan could sense that, and quickly returned to more important matters.

"Anyway, so the Wizard King is hiding in a small hut he conjured by the lake about a mile out from the outskirts of the Kingdom. That's where he tells his new recruits to meet him, so I believe that it where his main operations are also located. It doesn't sound like he has much of a base yet, as he is still building his army's numbers. That being said, we must strike as soon as possible, for in his hands, the crown can do a lot of damage."

"Makes sense. What do you propose?"

"I think we should attack the Wizard tomorrow, right after dawn. His lazy ass won't be awake by then, so he won't be expecting it."

"Yeah, that sounds like the Wizard King, alright. We'll go in and take the crown back before he even knows what hit him."

"I'll take the brunt of his attacks, if you sneak in and grab the crown. I'm going to retire to the barracks tonight to retrieve my proper armor and my longsword. Let's meet at the outskirts at dawn."

* * *

"Craig, I didn't think I'd have to ask this so early in the morning, but…how did you manage to get a horse and carriage?"

"A thief has their ways," Craig winked. "This way, you can hide in the back under some sheets and I'll wear my cloak and drive the carriage. We'll totally just look like some merchants passing by and then, we strike."

"Not bad for a thief, I suppose," Stan grinned.

The journey to the nearby lake was made quickly with the added mode of transportation. Craig could see the small cabin in the distance as they steadily approached. Suddenly, half a dozen men leapt from the reeds around the lake and ambushed the carriage.

"Stan!" Craig yelled.

Stan sprang from the back of the carriage and pulled his sword out from its sheath. He was met by two men, one with a sword and one with a hunting knife. He lifted his shield to block the swing of the first man's sword. He kicked his leg out to the side in order to catch the knife-wielding man in the groin. The second man crumbled to the ground, his knife dropping from his grasp as he clutched between his legs. Stan took a step back, parrying the first man's next attack. He pushed his sword forward, making the man stumble backwards. This was Stan's opening. He thrust his sword forward, piercing the man in the ribs.

Craig vaulted off of the carriage and stabbed one of the henchmen in the shoulder before his feet even hit the ground. He spun around behind the man and slashed him in the back, causing his to fall to his knees in pain. Craig then crouched behind the man's body to block a throwing knife, which instead became lodged in the fallen man's arm. Craig dashed toward the source of the throwing knife and stabbed the man in the gut.

Stan and Craig met in the middle, flanked by the two remaining henchmen. They stood back to back and ready to pounce at the right moment, when out of nowhere, two fireballs hit the henchmen and they fell to the ground, defeated. Stan and Craig both glanced at each other, confused, then to the source of the fireballs.

Manic laughter filled the air as the Wizard King emerged from his hut. "They were disposable. Worthless pawns in a much greater plan!"

Stan and Craig turned to face the Wizard, transitioning into defensive stances.

"You fools walked right into my trap! Did you not think that I had spies planted all over the Kingdom? I knew about your little raid at dawn before you even did!"

"That's impossible, Wizard King," Stan stated.

"Maybe for you guys, but I'm, like, way smarter than you. My brain can do all sorts of complex thinking and I have lots of different powers."

"Oh yeah? If you knew we'd be coming so early, then why does it looked like you just rolled out of bed and your wizard robe is actually a bathrobe?"

"Shut up, Craig! You asshole!" The Wizard King cleared his throat before continuing. "Now! You will never be able to take the magic crown back from me, pathetic weaklings! I am far too powerful!"

He took the crown from inside of his robe and placed it on his head. The crown began to glow, its power now activated.

"Feel my wrath!" the Wizard King screamed. He raised his arms in the air, lightning charging in his fingertips.

Stan and Craig ran forward, trying to reach him before he cpuld discharge the electricity at them, but he was too fast. The magic crown doubled his magical strength and cut his casting time in half. The Wizard King shot a lightning bolt at Craig, throwing him back onto the ground and causing him to become temporarily paralyzed.

The Wizard King cackled and swung his fist up into the air. "Terra punch!"

A chunk of earth shot up from the ground and sent Stan flying through the air. He landed on his back with a thud. Stan stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Blood. Somehow that fat asshole had the upper hand. Even with Stan and Craig's combined strength and ability, they were no match for his magic while he was wearing the crown. Stan sprinted toward the enemy once more.

"Ahhh, fuck you!" the Wizard King cried as he sent out an icy blast that Stan managed to deflect with his shield. "Shit!"

Stan thrust his sword forward, but the Wizard was able to step aside just enough so that his robe was torn, but his skin was left intact. Stan spun around in an attempt to get a forward slash in, but the Wizard King was too fast, and instead, he got an icy blast directly to the chest. Stan fell to his knees, frozen. His sword had been knocked out of his hands during the blast.

"Isn't it funny, Sir Stan?" the Wizard King began. "The prized knight of the Elven King's army and you can't even get one good shot on me."

He began to circle around Stan's frozen form.

"If you're the best that Ginger Elf fuck has to offer, then taking over the entire Kingdom is going to be a breeze! Without his precious magic crown, he's nothing. I shall return to the Kingdom and become the most powerful mage in all the land! Do you want to know how I'll do it? I'll just waltz right through the gates with this magic crown on, and no one will stand a chance! Everyone will bow down to me and recognize me as the  _one true King_!"

The Wizard King threw his head back and laughed. Sir Stan was helpless, being forced to listen to the madman's evil plans. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, Craig appeared behind the large man and stabbed him in the back.

"Ahh! What the fuck!" cried out the Wizard King, his body jolting at the attack. The magic crown teetered off of his head and Craig caught it with his free hand.

"The paralysis finally wore off. You forgot about the second man. That's a rookie mistake. Not something that someone who considers himself all-powerful would do." Craig spun the magic crown around one of his long fingers, reminiscent of when he had escaped the dungeon with it.

"Ow Craig! What the fuck! You don't just stab a guy in the back!"

"I'm a rogue. That's my main move."

"That fucking hurt!" The Wizard King began to cry, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. "Screw you guys, I'm going home to my mom!"

He stomped away, leaving Stan, Craig, and the crown without more of a fight.

"That was surprisingly easy," said Craig.

"I'm pissed we didn't think about doing something like that in the first place," Stan laughed now that the ice spell had finally wore off. "Let's get this back to the castle before anything else happens."

* * *

"Thank you for defeating the Wizard King and returning my magic crown to me, Sir Stanley. I knew I could count on you," the Elven King said with a smile.

"Thank you, my Lord. I'm sorry that it took longer for me to obtain it than I had initially thought. I had unfortunately been outsmarted by the original thief."

Stan turned to look at Craig, who was over on the side of the throne room, eyeing some of the expensive looking busts.

"Craig!" he scolded.

"What? I was just looking..."

"While it is true that Craig was the one who stole the crown from its chambers,  _and_  that he then had the crown stolen from him..." the Eleven King began. "It is also true that his assistance was essential to getting the crown safely back where it belongs. For this, I shall not place any punishment on you for your misdeeds."

"Thanks, your Kingliness," Craig smiled.

"Now then, I have some important political matters to attend to, so I shall bid you both adieu."

The Elven King bowed to the two men. Sir Stan bowed in return, having to jab Craig in the side to get him to do the same. Once they were alone, the two of them slowly began to exit the throne room.

"It was really nice working with you these past few days, Craig. I never would have guessed that in one thousand years, but...it was a pleasant change of pace from always being at odds," Stan admitted.

"I never thought I'd ever agree with you on anything, but ditto."

Stan stopped in his tracks and turned to face Craig. "I have a proposition for you. How about we make a truce?"

"How so?"

"You and I make a pretty good team, and I sometimes have missions where I could use a skilled rogue on my side. I was thinking maybe we could team up again sometime. You know...if you were okay with it and all..." Stan ground the toe of his boot into the floor, suddenly feeling embarrassed for even bringing it up.

Craig laughed at Stan's sudden bashfulness. "Yeah sure, that sounds like fun. You're a pretty good partner. You do know that this isn't going to stop me from fucking around with you, right? Cause I'm not going to quit that. It's too much fun," he grinned.

Stan smiled back and the two men shook hands.

"So what now?" Stan asked. "The mission is complete and it's barely even noon. I'd cancelled all of my training and meetings today, just in case the Wizard King had put up more of a fight."

"You could come back to my place," Craig proposed. "Maybe we could, uh...see where things would have gone the other day if we hadn't stopped."

Stan smirked and took a step closer. "What exactly are you trying to say, Craig?"

Craig wrapped his arm around Stan's waist and pulled his against his chest. "I'm saying I want you, you coy bastard."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned this weekend for the bonus sexy times chapter, if you're interested!


End file.
